Diary of Judith Brockenbrough McGuire: April 9, 1863

On Monday saw B. removed from the bed of suffering, on which he had been lying four months, put on a stretcher, and carried to the canal-boat. His countenance was full of joyful anticipations of home. His arm, which should have been amputated on the field, hangs lifeless by his side; and yet he expects to return to his post, that of Major of artillery, as soon as he is strong enough. Poor fellow, it is well for him to amuse himself with the idea, but he will never again be fit for any duty but that at a post. He has been the recipient of kindnesses from Mr. and Mrs. P. and others, which could only be experienced in this dear, warm-hearted Southern country of ours, and which he can never forget to his dying day. That night I spent with my kind friend Mrs. R, and next morning made such purchases as were absolutely necessary for our comfort. I gave for bleached cotton, which used to be sold for 12½ cents, $3.50 per yard; towelling $1.25 per yard; cotton 50 cents a spool, etc. Nothing reconciled me to this extravagance but that I had sold my soap for $1 per pound!!

The enemy has retired from Vicksburg, their canal having proved a failure. Where they will reappear nobody knows. Another ineffectual attempt upon Charleston on the 7th and 8th.

SOURCE: Judith W. McGuire, Diary of a Southern Refugee, During the War, p. 204-5

Charlotte Cross Wigfall to Louise Wigfall, December 5, 1862

Dec. 5th, 1862.

. . . We are all painfully anxious about Fredericksburg. It has been raining hard all day and hailing this evening, and if there has been no advance yet I think Burnside will have little chance of doing anything this winter. . . . Genl. Johnston carried quite a numerous staff with him to the West and I hope with all my heart that he will win fresh laurels there.

SOURCE: Louise Wigfall Wright, A Southern Girl in ’61, p. 98

Diary of Sarah Morgan: July 1, 1862

I heard such a good joke last night! If I had belonged to the female declaiming club, I fear me I would have resigned instantly through mere terror. (Thank Heaven, I don't!) These officers say the women talk too much, which is undeniable. They then said, they meant to get up a sewing society, and place in it every woman who makes herself conspicuous by her loud talking about them. Fancy what a refinement of torture! But only a few would suffer; the majority would be only too happy to enjoy the usual privilege of sewing societies, slander, abuse, and insinuations. How some would revel in it. The mere threat makes me quake! If I could so far forget my dignity, and my father's name, as to court the notice of gentlemen by contemptible insult, etc., and if I should be ordered to take my seat at the sewing society —!!! I would never hold my head up again! Member of a select sewing circle! Fancy me! (I know “there is never any gossip in our society, though the one over the way gets up dreadful reports”; I have heard all that, but would rather try neither.) Oh, how I would beg and plead! Fifty years at Fort Jackson, good, kind General Butler, rather than half an hour in your sewing society! Gentle, humane ruler, spare me and I split my throat in shouting “Yankee Doodle” and “Hurrah for Lincoln!” Any, every thing, so I am not disgraced! Deliver me from your sewing society, and I'll say and do what you please!

Butler told some of these gentlemen that he had a detective watching almost every house in town, and he knew everything. True or not, it looks suspicious. We are certainly watched. Every evening two men may be seen in the shadow on the other side of the street, standing there until ever so late, sometimes until after we have gone to bed. It may be that, far from home, they are attracted by the bright light and singing, and watch us for their amusement. A few nights ago, so many officers passed and repassed while we were singing on the balcony, that I felt as though our habit of long standing had suddenly become improper. Saturday night, having secured a paper, we were all crowding around, Lilly and I reading every now and then a piece of news from opposite ends of the paper, Charlie, walking on the balcony, found five officers leaning over the fence watching us as we stood under the light, through the open window. Hope they won't elect me to the sewing society!

SOURCE: Sarah Morgan Dawson, A Confederate Girl's Diary, p. 98-9

Diary of Corporal Alexander G. Downing: Tuesday, October 25, 1864

Still lying in camp. The supply train of the Fifteenth Army Corps returned with rations late this evening, but the supply train of the Seventeenth Corps has not yet come in. It is reported that the army of the Tennessee is going on a march of four hundred miles. The route is supposed to be down through the States of Alabama and Mississippi and then up through to Memphis, Tennessee.¹ We are to take rations for thirty days and clothing for sixty days. The armies of the Ohio and of the Cumberland, it is said, are to garrison Atlanta² and also to hold the railroad between Atlanta and Nashville. The Twenty-third Army Corps moved out today to Cedar Bluffs.

_______________

¹ This was the first hint at “marching through Georgia,” but the camp rumor had it Alabama and Mississippi. — Ed.

² We learned later that it was Chattanooga instead of Atlanta, and that the two armies were to be united under the command of General Thomas. — A. G. D.

Source: Alexander G. Downing, Edited by Olynthus B., Clark, Downing’s Civil War Diary, p. 224

John Brown to the Reverend Samuel Lyle Adair, February 16, 1857

Boston, Mass., Feb. 16, 1857.

Dear Brother And Sister Adair, — It is a long time since I have heard a word from you, but I suppose it is because I have been continually shifting about since my return to the States. I am getting quite anxious to hear from you, and to get your views on your own prospects and present condition, together with your ideas of Governor Geary and of Kansas matters generally. I have not heard a word from Hudson or Akron since December; but that is owing to the fact that I have had no place fixed upon, till of late, where to receive letters. This has been from a kind of necessity; but I can now say, do write me at Springfield, Mass., care of the Massasoit House, leaving the title of Captain off. I now expect to go to Kansas (quietly) before long; but I do not wish it noised about at all. Can you tell me what has become of Captain Holmes of your place? I expect to appear before a committee of the Massachusetts legislature in a day or two. My family were well about a week ago.

Your affectionate brother,

John Brown.

SOURCE: Franklin B. Sanborn, The Life and Letters of John Brown, p. 370

1st Lieutenant Charles Fessenden Morse, July 12, 1862

Camp Near Warrenton,

July 12, 1862.

Last Sunday our division broke camp, and after a tedious day's march, accomplished only about five miles, the whole day being used up getting the wagon train across the Shenandoah. The weather was fearfully hot, equal to the famous eighth, last July. When we formed line before going into camp, many men fell fainting in the ranks.

Monday, we made an early start, and crossed the Blue Ridge through Chester Gap. The scenery was beautiful, but the weather was fearful; we camped for the night in a fine wood near the village of Flint Hill. Next morning we went on, five miles farther, to near Amesville. We stayed there until yesterday, when we marched to this camp, two miles west of Warrenton. All along our route, the men have almost subsisted on cherries and blackberries, both growing in the greatest profusion here; the men would fill their quart dippers in less than ten minutes.

We have got into a new country in appearance; the mountains have entirely disappeared and given place to splendid, great rolling hills and valleys, with beautiful woods scattered over them. The views that you get in this State are certainly wonderful in their extent. From the top of a comparatively slight elevation you can see for a distance of twenty miles all about you. I think that there is to be a large army concentrated here, and that, then, we are to move “On to Richmond,” by the present indications; there is already considerable force here and it is increasing.

I rode into Warrenton yesterday with Bob Shaw and Dr. Stone; we found the place a great improvement on most southern towns. There are some very pretty houses and well kept lawns and gardens in the vicinity. We took tea at the “Warren Green Hotel,” regaling ourselves on iced milk and corn-bread, finishing the evening by smoking our cigars on the piazza. Just as we were coming away, Charley Horton arrived with his General; it was a great mutual surprise to us and a very pleasant one. We have received orders to-day to turn in all tents except a limited number for the officers, to send away all trunks, each officer to keep only a small valise and roll of blankets. Regiments, etc., are also to keep constantly on hand ten days' rations, so you see we are all ready for a long march; don't care how soon it comes if it carries us towards Richmond! I am acting Adjutant for the present, but shall not be appointed, as Colonel Andrews says the time will be too short before I get my promotion, to make it worth while.

SOURCE: Charles Fessenden Morse, Letters Written During the Civil War, 1861-1865, p. 70-2

Major Wilder Dwight: Friday, Sunday Evening, September 29, 1861

pleasant Hill, Sunday Evening, September 29, 1861,

Camp near Darnestown.

An opportunity presents itself, this morning, to send a letter, and so I write, though I have only to tell you of continued quiet and content.

And, indeed, it is no easy matter to preserve that happy mental and moral poise in the midst of our present dulness. I think, however, that the regiment was never in a state of more admirable efficiency than it is to-day, and this cheers and satisfies me when I keep it in mind. It is idle, however, to disguise the fact that it is a heaviness to the natural and unregenerate heart to see no prospect of achievement, no opportunity of action.

I do not hesitate to say, that the winter must not set in without deeds that give a lustre to our flag. Volunteering, is it, that is wanted? Show the volunteer that he enters on the path of victory, and the crowd will be immense.

We heard last night that the report was current that our division had cut the enemy to pieces, or was itself cut to pieces, or something of that sort. If so, and the report ran home by telegraph, you have had a very needless alarm. Never was repose so undisturbed as ours. If you hear such news of us, reflect only, “It is too good to be true.”

Your letter of the 23d is just received. I do hope Howard will find success in the Department of the West. There is certainly room for him there, and he has capacity for the place. I have just come in from Sunday-morning inspection. We need for the regiment flannel drawers and flannel shirts. Can you not get up a good package of them, and send them on by Captain Abbott? I see you speak of shirts for the soldiers.

SOURCE: Elizabeth Amelia Dwight, Editor, Life and Letters of Wilder Dwight: Lieut.-Col. Second Mass. Inf. Vols., p. 107-8

Major-General John Sedgwick to his Sister, September 3, 1863

Warrenton, September 3, 1863.

My dear sister:

I received yours of the 30th ultimo last night. I am sorry to find that your finances are so low, almost in as bad a condition as the Confeds’. You must economize and put out more paper, and then repudiate; but if you cannot carry out the transaction in that way, I will send you some of my paper. Let me know. I have sent my sword, etc., to a friend in Washington for a few days, in order to have some photographs taken of it. After that is done I will send it home; let me know if it can be expressed to West Cornwall. Everything was in the very best taste, and as rich as could be made. General Meade had a sword presented him the next day, but nothing to compare with mine. It was made the occasion of a great political meeting, and most of the people came away highly disgusted. There was nothing of this sort here to mar the harmony; every one went to please himself, and generally accomplished it. I have always opposed show of any sort.

There is no military news; both sides seem to be waiting for reinforcements. Ours come in very slowly; I doubt whether we have as many as when we arrived here, but those that have gone to New York will soon be available. The weather is delightful, and the fall is wearing away. I shall try and make you a visit sometime after the campaign is over.

With love to all,

Yours,

J. s.

SOURCE: George William Curtis, Correspondence of John Sedgwick, Major-General, Volume 2, p. 156-7

Diary of Lieutenant-Colonel Rutherford B. Hayes: Sunday Morning, January 19, 1862

Fayetteville, Virginia. — It rained almost all night; still falling in torrents. A great freshet may be expected. . . .

Great war news expected. Burnside's expedition sailed; near Cairo, a great movement forward; Green River, ditto. What we need is greater energy, more drive, more enterprise, not unaccompanied with caution and vigilance. We must not run into ambuscades, nor rush on strongly entrenched positions. The battle of New Orleans and many others in our history teach the folly of rushing on entrenchments defended by men, raw and undisciplined it may be, but all of whom are accustomed to the use of firearms. Such positions are to be flanked or avoided.

SOURCE: Charles Richard Williams, editor, Diary and Letters of Rutherford Birchard Hayes, Volume 2, p. 191

Francis Lieber to Senator Charles Sumner, December 29, 1864

New York, December 29, 1864.

I must write to you, my friend, even from my sick-bed. Some time ago you wrote to me what topics were before you in the Committee of Foreign Affairs, on all of which you invited my say. . . . I merely single out the Reciprocity Treaty. I have not studied the details of the objections. You know I am a free-trader, which means nothing more than a non-obstructionist, one that considers it rebellion in the puny creature to dare interfering with his Maker's material elementary law of civilization — that of exchange. But apart from this, I see the very worst consequences which would naturally result from establishing the harsh, and I think semi-barbarous, line of prohibition between us and Canada; the harsher, the less feasible the thing will be. All will suffer from it, except the smuggler — the armed smuggler en gros, such as he was known under Napoleon. . . .

SOURCE: Thomas Sergeant Perry, Editor, The Life and Letters of Francis Lieber, p. 354-5

Diary of John Beauchamp Jones: December 23,1861

Gen. T. J. Jackson has destroyed a principal dam on the Chesapeake and Ohio Canal. That will give the enemy abundance of trouble. This Gen. Jackson is always doing something to vex the enemy; and I think he is destined to annoy them more.

It is with much apprehension that I see something like a general relaxation of preparation to hurl back the invader. It seems as if the government were waiting for England to do it; and after all, the capture of Slidell and Mason may be the very worst thing that could have happened. Mr. Benjamin, I learn, feels very confident that a rupture between the United States and Great Britain is inevitable. War with England is not to be thought of by Mr. Seward at this juncture, and he will not have it. And we should not rely upon the happening of any such contingency. Some of our officials go so far as to hint that in the event of a war between the United States and Great Britain, and our recognition by the former, it might be good policy for us to stand neutral. The war would certainly be waged on our account, and it would not be consistent with Southern honor and chivalry to retire from the field and leave the friend who interfered in our behalf to fight it out alone. The principal members of our government should possess the highest stamp of character, for never did there exist a purer people.

SOURCE: John Beauchamp Jones, A Rebel War Clerk's Diary at the Confederate States Capital, Volume 1, p. 101

Diary of John Beauchamp Jones: December 24,1861

I am at work on the resolution passed by Congress. The Secretary sent it to me, with an order to prepare the list of names, and saying that he would explain the grounds upon which they were permitted to depart. I can only give the number registered in this office.

SOURCE: John Beauchamp Jones, A Rebel War Clerk's Diary at the Confederate States Capital, Volume 1, p. 101

Diary of John Beauchamp Jones: December 25,1861

Mr. Ely, the Yankee member of Congress, who has been in confinement here since the battle of Manassas, has been exchanged for Mr. Faulkner, late Minister to France, who was captured on his return from Europe. Mr. Ely smiled at the brown paper on which I had written his passport. I told him it was Southern manufacture, and although at present in a crude condition, it was in the process of improvement, and that “necessity was the mother of invention.” The necessity imposed on us by the blockade would ultimately redound to our advantage, and might injure the country inflicting it by diminishing its own products. He smiled again, and said he had no doubt we should rise to the dignity of white paper.

SOURCE: John Beauchamp Jones, A Rebel War Clerk's Diary at the Confederate States Capital, Volume 1, p. 102

Diary of Mary Boykin Chesnut: July 6, 1864

COLUMBIA, S. C. — At the Prestons’ Mary was laughing at Mrs. Lyons's complaint — the person from whom we rented rooms in Richmond. She spoke of Molly and Lawrence's deceitfulness. They went about the house quiet as mice while we were at home; or Lawrence sat at the door and sprang to his feet whenever we passed. But when we were out, they sang, laughed, shouted, and danced. If any of the Lyons family passed him, Lawrence kept his seat, with his hat on, too. Mrs. Chesnut had said: “Oh!” so meekly to the whole tirade, and added, “I will see about it.”

Colonel Urquhart and Edmund Rhett dined here; charming men both — no brag, no detraction. Talk is never pleasant where there is either. Our noble Georgian dined here. He says Hampton was the hero of the Yankee rout at Stony Creek.¹ He claims that citizens, militia, and lame soldiers kept the bridge at Staunton and gallantly repulsed Wilson's raiders.

At Mrs. S.'s last night. She came up, saying, “In New Orleans four people never met together without dancing.” Edmund Rhett turned to me: “You shall be pressed into service.” “No, I belong to the reserve corps — too old to volunteer or to be drafted as a conscript.” But I had to go.

My partner in the dance showed his English descent; he took his pleasure sadly. “Oh, Mr. Rhett, at his pleasure, can be a most agreeable companion!” said someone. “I never happened to meet him,” said I, “when he pleased to be otherwise.” With a hot, draggled, old alpaca dress, and those clod-hopping shoes, to tumble slowly and gracefully through the mazes of a July dance was too much for me. “What depresses you so?” he anxiously inquired. “Our carnival of death.” What a blunder to bring us all together here! — a reunion of consumptives to dance and sing until one can almost hear the death-rattle!

_______________

¹ The battle of Stony Creek in Virginia was fought on June 28-29, 1864.

SOURCE: Mary Boykin Chesnut, Edited by Isabella D. Martin and Myrta Lockett Avary, A Diary From Dixie, p. 313-4

Diary of Judith Brockenbrough McGuire: April 4, 1863

Spent to-day in Richmond, attending on the wounded. The mob of women came out yesterday, but in smaller numbers, and was easily put down by military authority. To-day a repetition was expected, and the cannon was in place to rake the streets, but they thought discretion the better part of valour, and staid at home. The riot, it is ascertained, was not caused by want; it was no doubt set on foot by Union influences. I saw the Rev. Mr. Peterkin, who is perhaps more thoroughly acquainted with the state of the poor than any man in the city. He says that they are admirably attended to. Large sums of money are put in the hands of the clergy for their benefit; this money is disbursed by ladies, whose duty and pleasure it is to relieve the suffering. One gentleman gave as much as $5,000 last winter. Besides this, the industrious poor are supplied with work by the Government, and regularly paid for it.

The Bishop set off this morning for his spring visitations, which are becoming, alas! very circumscribed — so much of the diocese is in the hands of the enemy.

Mr. C., of Georgetown, Captain Norton, of New Orleans, and Mr. A. S. are with us. The first of these gentlemen ran the blockade from his home some months ago, finding he was to be arrested for opinion's sake, and now holds a Confederate office in Richmond. He very rarely hears from his wife and children. Flag-of-truce letters seldom reach their destination, and when they do, letters of one page, written to be inspected by strangers, are very unsatisfactory. An occasional “underground” communication comes to him, like water in a thirsty land. I often look at his calm countenance with sympathy, knowing that there must be deep sorrow and anxiety underneath.

SOURCE: Judith W. McGuire, Diary of a Southern Refugee, During the War, p. 203-4

Francis H. Wigfall to Louise Wigfall, November 23, 1862

Camp, near Fredericksburg, Nov. 23rd, 1862.

. . . We reached here on yesterday afternoon, having left Culpeper on Wednesday about twelve o'clock. We were on the road three days and a half, and it rained every day but the last. So you see that we have been enjoying ourselves. The Yanks were to have begun the shelling of Fredericksburg on yesterday, but they did not keep their word. We met yesterday, ladies on foot in all the mud and wet, five and six miles from the town; the women and children having been ordered to leave the place in anticipation of the opening of the fight. What kept the enemy from fulfilling their threats I don't know. They demanded a surrender and the authorities refused; they then gave the citizens until nine o'clock the next morning to move out the women and children: they afterwards deferred it until two in the afternoon, but when two o'clock came the Yankee shells did not. The citizens in this section from all accounts have suffered terribly from the presence of the Yankees in their midst and I think are prepared to undergo any privations rather than see the enemy again among them.

I am much obliged for the things sent me — especially the razor, as cats are very scarce in camp and cream more so.

We had a magnificent supper last night consisting of preserved salmon, sardines, pepper vinegar, beefsteaks, biscuits and butter and real coffee. It was quite a shock to my system, I assure you. . . .

SOURCE: Louise Wigfall Wright, A Southern Girl in ’61, p. 97-8

Diary of Sarah Morgan: June 30, 1862

As a specimen of the humanity of General Butler, let me record a threat of his uttered with all the force and meaning language can convey, and certainly enough to strike terror in the hearts of frail women, since all these men believe him fully equal to carry it into execution; some even believe it will be done. In speaking to Mr. Solomon Benjamin of foreign intervention in our favor, he said, “Let England or France try it, and I’ll be if I don't arm every negro in the South, and make them cut the throat of every man, woman, and child in it! I 'll make them lay the whole country waste with fire and sword, and leave it desolate!” Draw me a finer picture of Coward, Brute, or Bully than that one sentence portrays! O men of the North! you do your noble hearts wrong in sending such ruffians among us as the representatives of a great people! Was ever a more brutal thought uttered in a more brutal way? Mother, like many another, is crazy to go away from here, even to New Orleans; but like the rest, will be obliged to stand and await her fate. I don't believe Butler would dare execute his threat, for at the first attempt, thousands, who are passive now, would cut the brutal heart from his inhuman breast.

SOURCE: Sarah Morgan Dawson, A Confederate Girl's Diary, p. 97-8

Diary of Corporal Alexander G. Downing: Sunday, October 23, 1864

The weather is getting pretty cool mornings, but we have plenty of wood to build fires in front of our shacks. All is quiet in the front. I was relieved from picket this morning. We had company inspection this evening.

Source: Alexander G. Downing, Edited by Olynthus B., Clark, Downing’s Civil War Diary, p. 224

Diary of Corporal Alexander G. Downing: Monday, October 24, 1864

Still lying in camp and all is quiet at the front. Large foraging parties are being sent out for food for the men and feed for the horses and mules. The valleys in this part of the country are thickly settled, but not more than half of the plantations have been cultivated this past season, as the negroes were taken south by their masters to keep them from falling into the hands of the “Yanks,” and also to help build fortifications. The plantations that have been farmed were put mostly in wheat and corn. There are some large fields of corn which come in very handy for our army at this time.

Source: Alexander G. Downing, Edited by Olynthus B., Clark, Downing’s Civil War Diary, p. 224

Lieutenant William Thompson Lusk to Elizabeth Adams Lusk, 1861

Headquarters 79TH Regt.

Camp Advance, Co. K.

Virginia, 1861.

Dear Mother:

A most delightful moonlight forbids my retiring at the usual hour to rest, so I will write and let you know that all is well — that we have had a dull week, that there has been naught to stir the sluggish blood since last week save once, when it was thought that the Army of Beauregard was marching in heavy columns upon us, but it didn't come, so we all said: “Pooh, pooh! We knew it wouldn't. They are too wise to attack us.” Alas, that we should have to tell that sorry tale of Bull Run! Walter has written me, and is full of our defeat. He does not feel flattered by the cheap lithographs in the shop windows representing “Yankees Running,” which are thrust upon his sight all over England. He is delighted though to think that the 79th did well, and that I was a member of the Highland Regiment. As we file out of our camp, full equipped, the soldiers of other Regiments are wont to say, “There go the Highlanders. There will be fighting to-day.” We are now formidably intrenched, and I think can make a tolerable defence against the foe. The Richmond Examiner says: “We” (the Southerners) “flaunt our flag defiantly in the face of the cowed and craven-hearted foe, but they tamely endure the insults we heap upon them, and refuse to accept out challenge to a fair and open fight.” Well I think we can afford to endure the flaunting of the “stars and bars” until McClellan is ready, when we hope to march forward, seeking winter quarters in the pleasant mansions of the South. Just this same thing the Southerners are hoping to gain in the North. Beauregard thinks Philadelphia, Baltimore and New-York, gay places in the season, where the Southern youth may join in the festivities of winter. Nous verrons.

We have a little parson in our regiment, who has a due regard for his personal safety. We love to get him into our tents, and describe with graphic truthfulness the horrid nature of shell wounds. The worst of shells too, we add, is, that they can be thrown to such a distance that even the Doctor and Chaplain are exposed to their death-bearing explosions. Our parson grows uneasy, and when an alarm is given, starts off, carpet-bag in hand, to our intense amusement, for the nearest place of safety. He is like that worthy chaplain, who, on the eve of battle, told the soldiers, “Fear not, for those of you who fall, will this night sup in Paradise.” The battle commenced and the chaplain began to display most entertaining signs of terror. He was reminded of the consoling language he had himself used in the morning. “No thank ye,” he answered quickly, “I never did like suppers.” To such an extent are we obliged to resort to everything to amuse ourselves. Our darkeys give us some amusement and much more trouble. Ours, we have dubbed the “Pongo,” who knows how not to do it, in a manner to excite our unbounded admiration. In the evening these Africans have a way of getting around the fire and singing real "nigger melodies," which are somewhat monotonous as regards the music, and totally idiotic as regards the words. A favorite of theirs goes thus — viz:

My little boat is on de ocean

Where de wild bird makes de music

All de day.

This will sometimes be repeated for a couple of hours by the indefatigable nigger — indefatigable in this alone.

Good-bye, darling mother.

Most affec'y.,

W. T. Lusk.

SOURCE: William Chittenden Lusk, Editor, War Letters of William Thompson Lusk, p. 87-9